


Healsluts

by Dleinad256



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Cold Weather, Cumshot, Cunnilingus, DPSdom, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, Gentle Dom, Grinding, Healslut, Large Penis, Light Bondage, Light Choking, Outdoor Sex, Punishment, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Tankdom, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, You'll see what I mean, basically a series of one-shots, dom reinhardt, domme tracer, idk if there's a name for that fetish, outdoor nudity, sub d.va, sub mercy, tags updated as i go, tankslut, weather play I guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dleinad256/pseuds/Dleinad256
Summary: I discovered r/healsluts a couple days ago and the fetish intrigued me. I'll be writing a series of oneshots, each of which exploring one pairing of DPS/Tank/Healer Dom/Sub. Requests appreciated.





	1. DPSDom/Tankslut (D.Va/Tracer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D.Va fucks up during their mission, and Tracer has to punish her for it.

“Come on, D.Va, you’re with me!” Tracer shouts over the comm, blinking ahead immediately. D.Va smirks and flips on the thrusters to follow her through the streets of Castillo.

“Alright, you know the drill. If we find any drones, you just cover me until I have them taken out.”

“Of course, miss,” D.Va says in subservient tone she knows Tracer likes.

“And here they come,” Tracer says, confident as ever, as they approach a circular wall that appears to be surrounding a statue of some kind. It’s easy at first, D.Va just keeps her matrix trained on Tracer as they blink and hop around the wall, using brief breaks to stretch her fingers so they don’t cramp up.

“This way!” Tracer jumps off the wall towards the statue, and D.Va expertly bends the legs of her mech on impact to nullify the shock. Tracer expertly shoots through the drones, and D.Va makes sure her partner’s completely invincible, nestled safely in her defense matrix.

“There it is,” D.Va says, motioning towards what she believes to be the Hacker’s Den.

Tracer blinks towards it, and D.Va does her best to follow her, but she hops out of range of DM. She cries out and recalls as she takes a few shots before finishing off the drone.

“D.Va!” she shouts. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry miss,” her words trip over her. “I—”

“You’re supposed to be on me at all times! That’s your  _ one job _ !”

“I’m so sorry!” Tracer can’t help but smirk to herself as she hears a perfect mix of guilt, fear, and worry in her voice.

“If you can’t even do  _ that _ , why do I even—”

“Lena!” she shouts. “ _ Are you okay? _ ”

Despite mild irritation at being taken out of the moment, she can’t help but giggle a little at her sub’s genuine concern. “Yes, Hana, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, you’re new at this. If I’m actually hurt too bad, I’ll use a safe word. You,” she pokes the hood of her mech like she would the nose of a dog, “stay in character.”

“Alright.”

Lena clears her throat before switching back to Tracer. “Well, despite your blunder, looks like we made it. Come on, follow me. And  _ stay close _ this time.”

“Yes, miss.” Tracer has to suppress a shiver as D.Va practically mewls her words.

They step into the Hacking Den. “Just do a quick sweep, we can send a bigger strike force in here later. For now, we need to hurry you back to base so we can administer your punishment.”

“My punishment, miss?” Tracer knows D.Va’s fully aware of what she means by “punishment”, but the innocent concern she’s capable of faking drives her wild.

“Yes, D.Va. A good tankslut wouldn’t let their domme get hurt. Maybe if I punish you, you’ll do better next time.”

“Of course, miss.” The resignation in her voice is completely faked; her heart pounds with lust and excitement, not fear.

 

It doesn’t take long for them to return to the base near Dorado. D.Va gets out of her mech and allows Tracer to guide her to her room by her hand. Both girls do their best to keep up their respective domme/sub personas, but the excitement and anticipation get the better of both of them, and they’re almost giggling on the way to Tracer’s room.

Tracer takes a few deep breaths to compose herself, and when she opens her eyes D.Va’s surprised by the apparent wrath in them.

“Take your clothes off.”

“All of them, miss?”

“Everything. A bad tankslut doesn’t deserve a bodysuit like that.”

“Of course, miss.” Tracer has to force herself to not get too excited as she watches her sub undress. She’s seen her naked a few times, but they’re still in the early stages where there’s still a lot of excitement to be had in simply seeing each other undressing for them.

She starts with the headset, placing it on the bedside table. Then her boots, and gloves, revealing her pale feet and fingers. Next up is her bodysuit, and Lena keeps her eyes trained on her hands as they peel it off. First exposed is her slender frame, her arms, her blue bra, her flat midriff, her pink panties, her soft thighs, her slim calves.

“Couldn’t even get your bra and panties to match? God, why should I expect anything different?”

“I’m very sorry, miss.”

“All you have to do is keep your defense matrix pointed at me. It’s not hard. Is it too much to ask that you at least look nice while doing it?”

“No, miss. I’ll do better.”

“Do I have to pick out your clothes for you before every mission?”

“If that’s what you think is best, miss.”

Tracer sighs. “Just keep stripping.”

“Of course, miss.” To feign embarrassment, she refuses eye contact with her domme, training her vision down and to her right. She reaches behind her and undoes the clasp of her bra, letting it fall to expose her modest breasts. Her panties go down soon after. She’s completely completely shaved (per Lena’s instructions), and her skin is already slightly dampened.

“At least you’re good at  _ something _ . Get on all fours on the bed,” she orders. D.Va obeys immediately, exposing her soft ass to the ceiling.

“Are you ready to accept your punishment?”

“Yes, miss.”

D.Va cries out as Lena slaps her ass as hard as possible.

“Count for me,” she growls.

“W-one! Ngh! Two!” The sound of skin hitting skin rings through her ears as she counts to ten, her words interrupted by constant groans, squeals, and whimpers. By the time she’s done, her ass is red and tender and starting to bruise.

_ Holy shit, is she crying? _ Lena thinks. Now it’s her turn to break character. “Hana? You alright?”

She nods, tears and mucus starting to flow down her face, and her eyes are squeezed shut.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she manages, her voice strained.

“Alright, safe word’s always there if you need it.”

She nods again. “Keep going.”

She gives her ass a final swat, flicking her fingers over the already forming bruise. D.Va groans and shivers in pain. “Good job taking your punishment, slut. Hopefully you’ll do better next mission.”

“I-I’m s-s-sure I will, m-miss.” The pain in her voice concerns Lena but makes Tracer even more excited.

She sighs. “I will admit, before you ruined everything, you were performing… adequately. I suppose I should reward that. Would you like your reward, slut?”

“Please, master.”

“Ooh, I’m ‘master’ now? I like it. Turn around and lie on your back.”

She does so, wincing as her bruised behind touches the mattress. Tracer takes off her shoes, pants, and panties. She’s also perfectly shaved and getting damp.

D.Va’s hands automatically move to touch herself, and Tracer swats her hands away. “No, D.Va. Only  _ good _ tanksluts get to pleasure themselves.”

“I’m sorry, miss.”

“I assume you want to see me completely naked?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Beg.”

“Please, master, you’re the most beautiful woman alive, all I want is to see your perfect body, I want to worship you, master, I’ll do anything you like, I… I’ll…”

Tracer waits for her as she fumbles over her words, a futile expression forming on her sub’s face. “Well, that was a bit pathetic, now wasn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, miss,” she whispers. She’s curious to know what her reward would be, but she doesn’t dare ask.

“You know what? I don’t think you should see  _ anything _ after that.”

“Miss, please, I—” she squeals lightly when Tracer grabs her hair to cut her off.

“My word is final.”

“Yes, miss.” She stares longingly at her domme’s ass as Tracer searches for a blindfold. When she wraps the scarf around her sub’s head, D.Va submits to her will and lets it happen.

“Right, it’s time for your reward.” D.Va’s heart starts pounding excitedly. Lena puts one leg on either side of her head, and D.Va starts feeling the warmth and the scent of her pussy. “Eat up, slut.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She leans in and her tongue glides up Tracer’s slick slit, slurping her juices as if she’s dehydrated. A burst of electricity flows through her when her sub’s tongue meets her clit, sending a shiver through her body. She moans as D.Va drags her soft tongue up and down her clit with long, slow motions. Her noises become higher pitched, more desperate, and last longer, driving D.Va insane. Against her master’s wishes, her hand finds her way to her pussy, and she slides her fingers into the wet mess between her thighs.

She can’t help herself, it feels so good, she keeps rubbing her clit, her years of silent teenage masturbation finally coming in handy… for a couple seconds.

“Hey!” Tracer shouts, shoving D.Va’s head away. She groans as the back of her skull knocks against the headboard. “What did I tell you?”

“That…” she whispers. “bad tanksluts don’t deserve orgasms.”

“And are you a good tankslut?”

“No, miss.”

She sighs exaggeratedly. “This disobedience must be punished. Give me your hands.”

She obediently holds out her hands, and cries out as the back of each one are slapped, the sharp noise filling the room.

“On all fours again.”

“Please, miss, I—”

“Now!”

She immediately rolls over and props herself up on her hands and knees. Another series of grunts, groans, yelps, and screams escape D.Va’s lips as Tracer abuses her ass another 10 times in rapid succession. She’s crying again by the end of it, but she forces herself to bear it.

Tracer flips her back over, holds her hands up against the headboard so she can’t use them, and sits on D.Va’s face. She eagerly returns to slurping her pussy, and in a couple seconds her punishment is forgotten. Tracer moans happily as D.Va’s tongue explores her folds and laps up her juices, brushing perfectly against her clit.

“Ah, fuck,” she groans, nearing orgasm already. “Maybe you are— ahh, maybe you are good for something. Good little slut.”

A sick sort of pride swells in D.Va, as if all she’s ever wanted was to be a “good little slut”. Her vagina aches for release, fluids running down her thighs and ass and onto the sheets. She tries clenching her thighs or rubbing them together to get some sort of pleasure, but it doesn’t work. All she can do is hope that Tracer takes pity on her and lets her get off later.

Tracer starts grinding against D.Va’s face and her thighs tighten around her head, which D.Va recognizes as her “I’m gonna cum” sign. She moans and gasps as she feels the sweet fire rising in her, ready to burst out at any second. Her hips rock over her face, and D.Va does her best to keep her tongue trained on her clit.

D.Va feels a hot flush of arousal bubble through her abdomen as Tracer violently grinds against her face and screams in orgasm. She lowers herself to sit on D.Va’s ribs, feeling the muscles over her thin stomach tighten under the pressure, and waits a moment to catch her breath and make her thighs stop shaking.

Once she’s ready, she reaches to take off D.Va’s blindfold. She blinks a couple times before gazing into her domme’s face, waiting for a command.

“That was… very good,” she says.

“It’s an honor to please you, miss. Thank you for the opportunity.”

She smirks. “I suppose… because you did such a good job at being my little slut… you should get to cum too?”

“Please, miss, may I?” she can sense the desperation in her voice and loves it.

“Would you like it if I did this?” she starts, running her fingers up her wet lips and grazing her clit. D.Va lets out a high pitched whine at the stimulation. “Or maybe…” she pushes herself up and positions herself between her legs. “This?” Her mouth is centimeters from her swollen pussy, and it practically twitches when she breathes onto it.

“Oh, please miss, I—”

“No!” she shouts, practically jumping up. She stands on the bed, one foot pressing into her chest. D.Va stares up at her, even more turned on by the display of pure dominance. Tracer rolls her eyes. “You just spent the last couple minutes with my pussy in your face, do you really need to keep staring at it?”

“Sorry, miss.”

“Eyes on  _ me _ , slut!” she growls.

“Of course, miss.”

“I am your  _ domme _ . Your  _ master _ . I don’t waste my time with your filthy cunt. If you want to get off, you do it yourself.”

“Of course, miss.”

“And for being so  _ presumptive _ that I’d do your work for you, you can’t even use your hands. You can grind on this pillow like an animal.” She lets her sit up and kicks a pillow towards her.

“Thank you, miss.” She eagerly positions the pillow between her legs and starts humping it, leaving wet streaks on the blue pillowcase. Her moans start quickly, fueled by the last half hour of denial. It’s not long before her face is flushed and her breathing shaky. She grinds so fervently that her small breasts bounce with each thrust.

“Look at you go, slut. God, so fucking horny and depraved that you’re fucking a  _ pillow _ . You know what they call guys who do that? That’s  _ you _ , D.Va. A failed little tankslut who disappointed her domme and has to resort to the same practices of a fucked up fifteen year old!” She pauses for a second to hear her sub’s desperate, labored breathing. She laughs at her. “Oh my  _ God _ ! I’m just sitting here insulting you and you’re going  _ faster _ ? Am I turning you on?” She waits a second for a response. “ _ Answer _ , slut!” She gives her ass an extra slap.

“Agh! Y-yes, miss!”

“Yes, what?”

“I get turned on… nngh… when you call me names and abuse me.”

She grins. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m a little slut.”

“ _ Whose _ little slut?”

“I’m your little slut, miss.”

“That’s right.” Tracer puts one hand between her shoulders and uses the other to grab one of her hips, rocking back and forth with her. She roughly pushes her forwards so she’s lying facedown on the bed, still grinding the pillow. After taking a second to admire the bruises she left on her sub’s ass, she goes around to the other side of the bed. “Might as well make yourself useful.” She sits in front of her, legs spread. “Eat.”

“Thank you, m—” the “iss” is cut off by Tracer grabbing her hair and forcing their lips together. She sighs happily as D.Va’s moans send vibrations between her thighs, making her expert licks even more pleasurable. She reaches up her shirt and squeezes her breast, pinching her hard nipple between her fingers. “Good little slut,” she purrs. She takes a couple seconds to admire her toned ass gliding up and down the pillow, leaving wet streaks over every square centimeter. Her Tracer persona’s fading out, and her first thought is  _ damn, I should get her some water once we’re done with this _ .

“Are you gonna cum for me, slut? Come on, cum for me, be a good little slut…” for a second she considers forcing her to stop, wait, and start over, but she’s starting to get tired.

D.Va moans into her crotch, and her gyrations turn faster and less rhythmic. Tracer sighs with pleasure as her sub starts screaming into her, the muffled cries dancing around the room. Waves of pleasure crash through her, her abs and thighs clenching as stars pop in her vision. She has to stop moving for a second as her energy leaves her, letting her face rest in Tracer’s damp folds. She expects (and anticipates) a punishment for stopping.

Lena, however, is done being Tracer for the night. She gently lifts Hana’s head and smiles softly at her. She smiles back. “Did you like that?”

“A lot,” Hana answers. She sits up so they can kiss, Lena tasting her tangy juices on her partner’s lips.

“You did a really good job tonight,” Lena says, hopping off the bed and pulling out a small cardboard box labelled  _ aftercare _ . “Sure I didn’t go far with the spankings?”

She shakes her head. “No, they were really good.”

“Butt still hurt?”

“Yeah, it’s gonna bruise.”

She finds the small bottle of painkillers and hands them to her with a thermos of cool water. Hana thanks her and takes two of them, drinking half the thermos with it. “Want the bunny, too?” Lena asks.

“Of course!” She takes a two-decade old stuffed rabbit toy Hana had since she was a baby out of the box and hands it to her. Hana hugs it to her chest.

Lena gets fills two mugs with milk from her fridge, and Hana looks on excitedly as she pours chocolate syrup into them and microwaves them.

“You’re too nice to me,” Hana smiles.

“You worked hard,” Lena says. “You deserve the best.”

They spend a couple hours cuddled under a comforter watching cheesy romcoms before going to sleep together. Hana dreams of their next mission, looking forward both to protecting her domme and what she might get to do if she succeeds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I titled the work "healsluts" and there is yet no mention of a healslut. O O P S.
> 
> If there's anything you'd like to see, feel free to request it in the comments. Who knows, I might just write it for you.


	2. Tankdom/Healslut (Reinhardt/Mercy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela's on the hunt for someone to dom her. Her first choice doesn't disappoint, but doesn't exceed expectations either

_ 17 years ago, during the Golden Age of Overwatch _

“I’m with you!” The bright-eyed young medic announces. The crusader lets out a booming laugh and thanks her as the biotic stream closes his wounds. He leads her and his comrades towards the construction site for Lijiang tower, all huddled behind his shield.

The tank and his healer speak in German over a private voice channel. “Am I doing a good job?”

“You are performing admirably!”

“Will I get a reward when we’re done?”

He chuckles lowly. “If you keep up the good work.”

“Will I get—”

“Will you two keep your mouths shut?” Commander Morrison growls.

Mercy quietly keeps the healing stream focused on Reinhardt. While she knows she should be focusing on the mission at hand or planning out one of the various papers she has to do for her PhD program, but for now all she wants to think about is being fucked silly by the muscular beast she’s working with.

She’d had a crush on the man since she was fifteen and he’d started appearing on Overwatch posters throughout the world. Fortunately for her, he’d developed a sort of affinity to her soon after she’d joined, and they’d gotten close within a few months of her starting to go on missions with Overwatch.

Reinhardt, even more susceptible to distraction, shares the same thoughts, his mind already at capacity thinking about what he could do with her once they’re back at base. When she’d first approached him and suggested a tankdom/healslut relationship, he’d been apprehensive. It felt odd to him associating the girl getting two PhDs at once with “healslut”, so she’d created the separate persona of “Mercy” for him. Angela studies physics and biochemistry, Mercy heals tanks in hopes of getting a good fuck.

“See anything?” Morrison asks.

“Office is empty,” says Troy, emerging from a side room. “Completely cleared out. Whoever was here was left long ago.”

“I don’t trust it,” Morrison says. “We’ll perform a full sweep of the area before leaving.”

 

Morrison’s instinct was right, and they’d found the operatives of the drug ring they were looking for hidden away in a forgotten corner of the third floor. There’d been a fairly brutal shoot out, but she had managed to keep them all alive and get them home without issue. Angela was proud of her ability to think quickly and keep her team alive. Mercy was happy she was a good healslut and would be rewarded for it.

It takes Reinhardt much longer to undress than it takes her, so she sits naked in his bed, back against the headboard, legs spread. She gently rubs her clit with a vibrator, moaning softly, getting herself wet in preparation for her incoming reward.

“There you are!” he booms, entering from the bathroom. He’s also naked, hard muscle covering every inch of his body, and Mercy’s eyes fall to his thick erection.

“Hello, master. Did I do a good job today?” Mercy speaks half an octave higher than Angela does, making her sound a lot meeker than normal.

“You did a  _ wonderful _ job! What would you like in return?”

“May I suck your cock, master?”

“Of course, my lady.”

She slowly inserts the swollen head into her mouth, tongue gliding in circles over the skin. She wraps her fingers around the base, keeping the vibrator in place over her moistening lower lips with the other hand. She moans slightly, sending light vibrations through the head as she takes more and more of his cock into her mouth. It brushes the back of her throat, forcing out a light gagging noise.

He places a hand on her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, and she expects him to force himself down her throat. He doesn’t simply holds her in place as he thrusts lightly in place. Her dom back in college would’ve, she thinks back to the nights of him pounding into her throat, her choking on him until her eyes water, shooting his load down her…

She snaps herself back to reality. Reinhardt’s surprisingly more gentle than she would’ve preferred, but she’s got a job to do and she tells herself she’s going to do it. Her tongue circles around the head and laps at the tip with practiced expertise, eliciting the occasional soft moan.

The vibrator sends soft thrums of pressure through her thighs, but it’s not powerful enough to get her off. The penis exits her mouth with a slight pop. “Master, can you fuck me?” She expects a “no” and an order to shut up and get put the dick back in her mouth.

Instead, he pulls himself away and tells her to turn around. She puts the vibrator back on the table and quickly gets on her hands and knees. His massive head pushes her walls open, and she has to let out a groan as he slides himself in. Her college dom would’ve manhandled her into whichever position she chose and started ramming her, but his slower approach does have some benefits. Not her preferred benefits, but benefits.

_ There we go _ , she thinks as he starts pounding her faster. Her breasts bounce and her arms start to go weak as he fills her, grazing her g-spot with each thrust. He’s quiet except for a few grunts and groans, meanwhile she’s gasping and moaning as he starts bringing her to orgasm.

“M-master, I’m about to cum!” Her old dom would’ve pulled out as soon as she said that and started fucking her mouth. She can worry about pleasuring herself only after her dom is finished. Reinhardt, however, keeps plowing away. A long cry cut into staccato flows out of her as sweet pleasure burns through her veins, starting at her clitoris and branching through her body. Her slick walls try to grip his cock, wanting to pull the cum out of him. Her arms give out and she doesn’t try to push herself back up, letting her face get buried in the sheets.

She wishes he’d be rougher. Yanking her by the hair, scratching her, slapping her… she can’t help but fantasize about more as he’s fucking her. She knows he’s probably afraid of hurting her, but he doesn’t realize that’s exactly what she  _ wants _ .

He rams himself into her, filling her completely, her ass bouncing a little with each thrust. He grips her tightly ( _ not tight enough _ , she thinks) fingers starting to dig into her as he gets closer.

She turns her head to the side, sucking in a deep breath now that her face is free from the mattress. “Are you going to cum, master?”

“Not just yet!” His voice is a little ragged, showing early signs of fatigue. He feels the fires of orgasm starting to well in him, but a couple flexes of the right muscles keeps it at bay.

After a couple minutes of good, hard fucking, she’s clutching the sheets and twisting her moans into more submissive whines. She feels her second orgasm welling up, and she’s waiting for Reinhardt to pull out and make her wait. She doesn’t. She cries out and moans again as a second orgasm rocks her, almost as intense as the first, her entire body tightening in response.

“Master… please, give me your cum…” asking feels weird, he should be demanding that she take it.

“Where would you like it?”

“Wherever you want to put it.” Her voice is a bit muffled by exhaustion and the mattress, but he can still hear perfectly. He pulls out of her, letting her punished muscles relax. He rolls her over, more gentle than she’d prefer but it’s something, and starts furiously stroking himself.

Within a few seconds, she feels his hot cum shooting over her soft skin. It arcs over her body; splattering over her pelvis, stomach, breasts, and some reaching as high as her mouth. She licks up everything in reach of her tongue, and scoops up some more with her finger. “Thank you, master.”

“I’m going to wash up, would you like to join me?”

“In a few minutes, master.”

He nods and retreats to the bathroom. She sighs. All she wants to be thinking about is the fucking she just got and the cum for her to eat. Instead, her mind keeps wandering to the paper she has for tomorrow.

_ I’ll find someone better at domming someday _ , she thinks.  _ Someday. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is gonna be Pharmercy, hopefully relatively soon. Happy New Year, everyone.


	3. Healslut/DPSDom (Pharmercy_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW guys, I haven't updated this since LAST YEAR ahahahahaha (it's actually been too long)
> 
> also I totally peaked in chapter one but I hope you like this one anyway

It took her 17 years, the complete shutdown of Overwatch, and an illegal recalling of its members, but Angela finally found the dom she’d always wanted as Mercy. The fifteen year old she’d known since her first days in Overwatch had matured into a powerful woman by the time they’d met again in violation of the Petras act.

By the time they’re stationed together outside of Volskaya Industries, they’re at the perfect time in their relationship, past all the awkward “first times” but still in the “new relationship excitement.” Naturally, they can’t help themselves but sneak off while they’re supposed to be watching out in case Talon returns for Volskaya.

“Up here,” Pharah says, landing on a crevice in the wall of the factory. Mercy flies up after her, alighting gently next to her. One wouldn’t be able to see them from the ground or sides, and there’s a vent gently pumping out warm air above them.

“Alright, slut, on your knees. It’s time for your lunch break.”

“Thank you, master.”

Pharah fiddles with some switches on her armor and quickly removes the plate covering her thighs and crotch. Mercy feels a firm hand on the back of her head, pressing her cool face into her master’s warmth. While Angela’s always been one for foreplay, Mercy’s more than willing to dive right in.

She kisses her thighs and plans on working her way up her vulva to her clitoris, but Pharah’s having none of it. She grabs her head with both hands and jerks her head up right to her vagina.

Mercy takes this in stride and slides her tongue up between her labia minora and up to her clit. She wraps her mouth around it, lightly sucking as she licks it. When she tries to look up and make eye contact with her domme, she’s a little discouraged that she’s not even looking at her. She has to be better.

Her tongue drags over her clit once it releases from her mouth. She is pleasuring Pharah, Pharah’s just very good at hiding it. She manages not to moan or clench her thighs or abs or give any sign that Mercy’s doing anything for her at all. She leans against the wall, looking around and pretending to be completely unaroused.

The silence is punctured by a loud blast as Pharah fires a dummy rocket into the water by factory. Mercy jumps and almost gets up before Pharah pushes her back down.

“It’s nothing, I just got bored. Get back to work, slut.” Mercy continues licking her lips and clit, her heart pounding. Pharah suppresses a shudder as Mercy finds exactly the right rhythm.

“You need to be better at this, slut,” taking deep breaths to control her voice. “Maybe if I give you a little… incentive.” Mercy suddenly feels the heat from Pharah’s rocket launcher radiating onto her neck. “Come on, be a good girl. Get your fingers in there.” Mercy quickly slides two fingers into her domme’s vagina as she circles her clit with her tongue. Pharah successfully stifles a string of pleasure noises as they try to escape her throat.

“Alright, get up,” she says, grabbing her sub’s hair and pulling her to a standing position. “Boots, stockings, panties, take ‘em off.”

“Yes, master.”

Pharah replaces her groin plate as Mercy strips. “Lie down,” she says once she’s finished. She glides a finger over her wet pussy, spreading the moisture around. Mercy wants to ask why her master decided to pleasure her, but doesn’t dare open her mouth.

Pharah plays with her labia and clit, and Mercy lets out a few whisper-moans as her vagina starts to swell. Pharah leans down to position her face right above the blonde’s vagina, and for a second, Mercy thinks her domme might eat her out.

She doesn’t. She opens her mouth and lets a couple seconds worth of spit fall onto her blonde pussy. After a couple seconds of smearing it around, she orders her to get up and put only her boots back on.

“Come on, slut. We’re still on the job, remember? We have to get another patrol in.”

“But… my clothes.”

“You’re sexier without them. Leave them here.”

“O-okay.”

Pharah blasts off from the crevice into the cold air, leaving Mercy to follow behind her. The cold air bites at her thighs, butt, and vagina, and the moisture between her thighs immediately starts to ice over. She places a gloved hand over her crotch, trying to keep it warm. Pharah tells her to stop touching herself.

The cold bites at her as her vagina starts to ice. She has to mentally applaud Pharah on her creativity, she’d never thought of this kind of vaginal torture before. Of course, she hopes it ends quickly, hopefully they’ll just do one rushed perimeter check then she can stand over the heating vent while eating out her master again.

Pharah, of course has other plans. She pretends to see something in the forest behind the factory, and insists on checking it out.

“Master, can we please go back soon? I’m getting very cold out here.”

“Soon. We have to make sure the perimeter’s secure.”

“Of course, master.” She squeezes her thighs and rubs them together, trying to conserve warmth. Her exposed flesh is starting to go numb.

After a couple minutes of searching, the ice freezing on her sensitive skin starts to bite. “Master, I don’t think there’s anything here.”

“We’ll be done once I say we’re done.”

“Am I being punished, Master? What for?”

“You’ll know when you’re being punished. Now come.” She leads her away from the building.

After another few minutes, Angela can’t take it anymore. “Fareeha, this is really starting to hurt, can we go back?”

“Of course we can. You brought that warming gel, right?”

“It’s in my pants.” Fareeha launches towards the building, Angela in hot pursuit. She starts to feel a little less cold just at the promise of warming up soon.

The heating vent feels amazing as they alight once again in their little crevice. Angela takes out the healing gel, and Fareeha requests to apply it to her. Her palms immediately feel warmer when she squeezes the gel onto them.

She rubs her hands together, then squeezes and caresses Angela’s soft butt. She sighs as her ass, then her thighs start to warm back up.

“Sorry for ruining the roleplay,” Fareeha says.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t a bad idea, we just went a bit too far with it.”

“Would it be unhealthy if some of this stuff got in your vagina?”

“I wouldn’t use it as lubricant, but yes, it’s safe.” Fareeha starts rubbing the gel over her thighs. “Maybe when it’s winter we could try this again. Spankings would probably hurt a lot more, and we could work in the humiliation angle because I’d have to be outside.”

“Very true.” Her hands slide to Angela’s vulva, rubbing the gel over the cold flesh. Angela moans as her fingers glide over her lips and clit.

“Thank you, master,” Mercy purrs as the gel does its work, slowly spreading heat through her pelvis. “Would you like me to repay you?”

“I’d expect you to,” Pharah says, immediately switching back into her role. She once again undoes the plate covering her crotch, exposing her wet lips and dark pubes. Mercy’s face gravitates towards her and she quickly finds herself between the thighs of her domme, contentedly licking her pussy. Pharah doesn’t suppress herself this time, letting her sub know she’s doing a good job with squeals and moans.

“May I please touch myself, master?”

“You may,” she says, keeping an air of mightiness despite lying on the floor moaning. “But do  _ not _ cum until I tell you to.” She emphasizes just the right words to send a chill down Mercy’s spine.

Mercy’s fingers slide over her clit, matching the rhythm of her tongue on her lover’s. She moans into Pharah’s pussy, her hot breath and the vibrations making her shudder. The leg armor weighs her down, and she starts to wish she’d taken it off so she could wrap her legs around her sub’s blonde head, squeezing slightly, making sure  _ all _ she could see or think of was pleasuring her.

With Mercy’s talented tongue, it doesn’t take long for Pharah to get close. She wants to bend and lift her legs, but the armor weighs her down. It’s actually kind of fun for her to be restrained like this, she’s never tried it, maybe one day she should sub for Mercy…

Meanwhile, Mercy also starts to feel the first licks of orgasm in her thighs, and knows she has to get Pharah off soon or stop touching herself for a couple minutes. She has to stop herself from trying to go faster to make her cum faster, that tactic only works on boys. Pride starts to well within her when Pharah sighs her series of signature moans that segue into screams. She lets out her standard “ohh”s and “ahh”s, finally ending with a low scream that tapers into a silent  _ Angela… _ as she comes. Mercy lifts her head, licking gloss and cum off her lips.

“Did I do a good job, master?”

“Very.”

“May I cum now?”

“Stand up.” Pharah pulls herself to a standing position, and Mercy follows suit. “Don’t stop.” She grabs her subs wrist and guides it back to her blonde pussy, where her fingers immediately find her clit and start playing.

Pharah wipes off her wet thighs with her fingers, and offers her slicked hand wordlessly to her sub. Mercy leans in with her mouth open and Pharah slides the fingers into her mouth. She happily licks and sucks the juices off her hand before Pharah pulls it out with a gentle popping noise.

Suddenly, her fingers are around her neck, thumb forming a V shape with the rest of her hand on the other side and her palm centimeters above her windpipe. She has no trouble breathing, but she can feel a bit of pressure on the thick veins under her domme’s fingers.

“Now,” Pharah says, “you’re free to cum.”

“Thank you, master.” Her domme watches with a slight smile as the blonde fondles herself and her face flushes pink, and then red. She starts to get slightly dizzy, not so much to feel like she’s falling but just enough to make her mind a bit cloudy.

“I’m about to cum, master,” she moans, feeling her vision gray slightly for a second before returning to normal.

“Do it, slut. Cum for me.”

“Yes, master.” Each syllable gets higher as her body prepares to cum. Pharah’s “smug domme” facade starts failing to cover her “adoring lover” personality, which starts to bleed through as Mercy’s face contorts in pleasure and she lets out the silent screams of her orgasm.

“How’d you like that?” Fareeha asks, kissing her after releasing her neck.

“It was amazing,” Angela answers. “My vision went kinda dark and it felt even better than usual.”

“Glad you liked it,” she says, and kisses her again. She checks the time on her wrist. “Oh, perfect timing, we’re getting picked up soon. Get dressed, we’ll cuddle back at base.”

“But I wanna cuddle now,” she says, fake pouting.

She gestures to her armor. “Remember last time we tried that?”

She grimaces as she remembers how uncomfortable her armor felt on her bare skin. “I guess I can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO! I have a tumblr now! dleinad256.tumblr.com (creative, I know)  
> I don't use it much yet, but feel free to stop by for updates or if you wanna talk!


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